


TOUCHED

by egbert



Series: The Erotic Adventures of Vriska and Dave [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egbert/pseuds/egbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The house they share with the others is blissfully empty; they've all gone out for a night on the town while Vriska and Dave opted to stay home. No reason given, just brushed off the invitation while they were sprawled out on the couch, Dave flipping through channels with Vriska draped across his lap. It's when everyone leaves that Vriska finally gets up, wanders from the living room and into the kitchen.</p>
<p>Dave can hear her opening and closing cupboards, followed by the pantry, and finally the fridge. It's only then that she finally says something.</p>
<p>"Daaaaaaaave," she whines, voice a pitch higher than it should be, "there's nothing to eat!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	TOUCHED

The house they share with the others is blissfully empty; they've all gone out for a night on the town while Vriska and Dave opted to stay home. No reason given, just brushed off the invitation while they were sprawled out on the couch, Dave flipping through channels with Vriska draped across his lap. It's when everyone leaves that Vriska finally gets up, wanders from the living room and into the kitchen.   
  
Dave can hear her opening and closing cupboards, followed by the pantry, and finally the fridge. It's only then that she finally says something.   
  
" _Daaaaaaaave_ ," she whines, voice a pitch higher than it should be, "there's nothing to eat!"   
  
Rolling his eyes, Dave sinks further into the couch, disinterested in her plight. "Order something in, Serket. Not a real challenge here on how to fix the problem."   
  
"But _Dave_ ," Vriska tries again. "I don't want to order in, I just want some dessert!"   
  
Better to remedy it now, rather than waiting, and knowing that Egbert still has candy stashed away from Halloween a few weeks ago, Dave finally pushes himself up from the part of the couch he had sunk down into. Wandering into the kitchen, he's about to say something when he sees her with the fridge door open, a can of whipped cream in her hand, grinning.   
  
_Welp._   
  
There's no amount of hesitation when he slides up to her, reaches for her hip with one of his hands and tugs her closer to him, arching an eyebrow. "Damn, Serket, if you wanted a little Strider in your life, all you had to do was ask."   
  
Vriska purses her lips, not entirely amused, but Dave knows there's laughter hiding in there someplace. Leaning in, Dave's about to pull her in for a kiss when she reaches up and sprays some whipped cream on his cheek, laughing to herself at the clearly shocked expression on his face. He does enough to keep himself looking blissfully aloof, so she always feels rather accomplished when she manages to break that façade. Without missing a beat, Vriska leans up and licks across his cheek, pulling back with a smirk on her face, clearly satisfied.   
  
The next movement is from Dave and he pulls back to tug his shirt up over his head, tossing it out to the hallway behind Vriska, and within seconds he's back in front of her. She sprays a line of whipped cream across his chest, and she licks cross to follow the line, biting down on his skin and sucking hard once all of it is gone. Dave steals the can from her after that, guides her chin up with one hand while he sprays a few spots of whipped cream against her exposed neck. Licking across each, he bites down against the same spots when he's cleaned her skin of the sweet cream.   
  
It's an exchange between them, placing lines and spots and when Vriska finally sprays some into Dave's mouth, she pulls him into a kiss, grinning against his mouth. _Finally,_ he thinks, and pulls her down to the floor of the kitchen with him.   
  
Vriska fits into his lap easily, one hand against his bare chest while she shakes the can of whipped cream with the other. They keep each other occupied with the kiss, and Vriska squirms in closer to press flush against him. One hand rests on her thigh, fingertips meeting skin, and he drags his nails up along it to her hip.   
  
(He asked her once, why she doesn't wear pants around the house if people aren't home. She looked at him like he was insane, and returned with a _why do you?_ He doesn't complain; gives him ample view of legs for miles and the way her boy shorts curve perfectly around her ass, and _fuck_ -)   
  
Her hips press forward and she grinds down against him with a quiet laugh, grins the whole time, watches his eyes flutter shut for a moment.   
  
Once recovered, Dave reaches beside them and into the fridge, pulls out the chocolate syrup that he knows belongs to either Tav or John but, hey, look at all the fucks _not_ being given about that fact. Because instead he's popping open the lid, drizzling it across her chest, licking up over her skin in broad strokes. Vriska shivers against him and Dave licks up to her neck, biting down again and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.   
  
Vriska shifts her hips forward again, rolls down against him, and Dave groans, mumbles a _Serket_ under his breath, and Vriska smirks. Her fingers move across his chest, up to his shoulder and down his arm, and rests it there while she sprays a line of whipped cream across his collar bone. Her mouth follows behind soon after, teeth scraping against his skin.   
  
They continue that way, trying to pull better reactions each time from the other, and Vriska finally manages to shed her tank top while Dave reaches around for the hook of her bra. He still isn't as adept at it as he would like to be, but Vriska has learned not to try helping him, lest she ruin his attempt at being _smooth_.   
  
She shrugs the straps off, and Dave wastes no time in dripping some syrup across her left breast, dipping his head to lick across her nipple, pressing open-mouthed kisses to suck the remaining syrup off her skin. Vriska's already whining for him, breath catching in her throat when he does the same thing to the opposite side, dragging his teeth over her nipple this time. Arching forward, she presses against him, and the can of whipped cream clatters the kitchen floor noisily. She's far too preoccupied now to even attempt to keep a hold on it, or to care that she's dropped it.   
  
Instead, she's more attuned to what Dave's hands are doing. How one of them is pressed against her stomach, fingers digging in against her skin and dragging lower, lower-   
  
Vriska can feel the muscles in her stomach tightening in anticipation, and for a moment, she doesn't breathe, waiting for the touch to come.   
  
It doesn't.   
  
Instead, Dave's hand moves down along her thigh, rakes his nails over overheated skin, and Vriska presses insistently against him, voice shaking when she speaks. "It's rude to keep a lady waiting."   
  
Dave laughs, low, "Didn't realize I was under a time constraint."   
  
Shrugging, Vriska's lips turn up into a smirk. "If you want your sister to walk in with everyone and try to psychoanalyze your choice in location for sex, then by all means." She grins knowingly. "Take your time."   
  
"Boner kill, Serket," he mumbles, hand resting flat against her thigh. "Damn, just had to bring the flighty broad up, didn't you?"   
  
Vriska rolls her eyes and rocks her hips again, arches close and presses against him so there isn't any space left between the two. Resting her forehead against his, she hovers close enough to kiss him, but stops short, lips brushing against his when she speaks. "Strider, why in the hell would you be thinking of anyone but me right now?" She kisses him, slow, barely there and not satisfying in the least, pulling away soon after. Only when they part does she dip her head down to his ear, whispering against it, voice all to tempting. "Shouldn't you be more focused on the girl in your lap, pressed so damn close to you, the one that's _aching_ for you to touch her? Why would you even pretend to disappoint me. We both know how much to like hearing me moan your name, _Dave_." And his voice comes out as a whine, all fucking hot and needy and _filthy_.   
  
Dave forgets what the damn problem was in the first place.   
  
His fingers trail up along her inner thigh and there's no fucking pretense this time, no teasing or light touches. Instead, his hand dips beneath the waist of her panties and he slicks his fingers against her, rubbing two between her folds, and he laughs low against her ear. "Fuck, Vriska." Before she can bother to say anything, he buries two fingers inside of her, and she inhales sharply. That's enough to satisfy him, to make him feel just a little more full of himself, because it's always fucking best when she can't even find her breath to bite out a remark against him.   
  
Vriska's hips jerk down against his hand, just slightly, and she drapes both arms around his shoulders, tipping her head back to focus on the ceiling. There's no real focus to be had, though. Not when his fingers start, fucking her rather mercilessly, not taking his time at all. Dave does, however, take advantage of her exposed neck, leaning in to bite hard near her pulse point and suck on the skin to leave another mark. Whining his name, she rolls her hips down against his fingers, grinding against the palm of his hand. It's almost impossible to think about anything but the way his mouth feels against her neck, or the way his fingers slam inside of her and curl against her and drag out before repeating and--   
  
A shiver runs through her body and Vriska's hands reach from his shoulders to his back, nails digging in deep and dragging across skin; leaves behind bright red marks from her nails, and Dave hisses against her neck. She repeats it when he fucks her harder, nails moving over skin, raking over it without thought to what she's doing.   
  
Dave presses his mouth against her ear, breathes hot against it. "I want you to come for me," he murmurs, low in his throat, and Vriska whines out his name. "Louder."   
  
She can feel her hands start to shake and she knows how fucking close she is. Moaning his name again, she does it a fraction louder than before, just like he asked.   
  
"Louder," he demands again.   
  
Vriska complies, and she can feel the way her stomach is tightening to an unbearable point, and it's only when he says it again, demands it again, tells her _louder_ and Vriska-   
  
Well, she comes apart rather perfectly. Trembles as her orgasm rolls through her in waves and she rides it out against his hand, moans his name loud enough that it echoes in the kitchen, spasms around his fingers and arches closer. It's only when she's attempting to catch her breath that Dave pulls his hand away, Vriska leaning into press a kiss to the corner of his mouth soon after.   
  
"Just, mm," she sighs, content, "Just give me a second."   
  
Dave says nothing but complies to the request, doesn't move even though he's fucking achingly hard for her by now. He's a patient guy, though. Has to be around a girl like Serket.   
  
She doesn't take too long to recover, record fucking time, but her hands are still shaking when she unbuckles his belt, so maybe she's just a little over zealous about the while thing. Not that he's complaining, not really. Especially not when she manages to tug his jeans open and pulls him free from the confines of his pants and boxers. It's a fucking relief, even more so when she manages to stroke him. She's slow to start, picks up the pace when she can feel his hips roll against her hand.   
  
Eyes falling shut when she twists her wrist, he's about to demand to know why her hand stopped but, well, it's rather clear after a moment. Vriska tugs her panties aside, kneels over his hips and sinks down on him without a word, biting down on her bottom lip to muffle the noise she wants to make.   
  
She's fucking blindingly hot around him, tight, makes him want to guide her hips and fuck her all proper. But he's alright to let her move at her pace. To clench around him when she lifts and relax when she sinks back down again. She starts a pace, achingly slow, and he waits for the moment where she speeds up but it _doesn't fucking happen_. Instead she moves too slow, makes him ache even more, and he's getting a little impatient in waiting for her to pick it up.   
  
(Just because he has patience doesn't mean it exists in endless supply, after all.)   
  
One hand finds her hip and he shifts, moves them both and guides her to lay back on the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor, and he absently registers the sound of the fridge door finally slamming shut once they're no longer blocking it from closing.   
  
Dave keeps one hand on her hip, braces himself near her shoulder with the other and pulls her down against him as he starts his pace. His hips pull back, slam forward, and Vriska's back arches so she can press even closer. His pace is relentless, doesn't stop, and she keeps clenching down around him and getting so fucking _tight_ \-   
  
Reaching up, Vriska buries a hand into his hair, grips it painfully tight so she can yank him down and kiss him hard. She bites his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and moans his name into his mouth, fucking desperate and needy. Dave pulls back from the kiss, hisses against her ear when he thrusts in particularly hard and she spasms around him. "Yeah, that's right. Fuck, moaning like a proper whore for me. God. Just a needy little slut for my dick, aren't you?"   
  
She wants to retaliate, wants to bite back and seethe at him for his fucking ego, but there's something about what he says that makes the heat spread through her like fire, makes her want to pull him closer and have him fuck her until she's spent. Vriska closes her eyes, whining in response to what he says. All god damn needy, just like he said, and she isn't sure if she resents him for it or not.   
  
But then again, she finds she stops really caring about Dave Strider and his fucking ego because he shifts, tugs one of her legs to bend it over his shoulder to fuck her even deeper. Vriska borders on screaming for him when he snaps his hips forward to bury himself inside of her, over and over again, not missing a beat. She reaches for something to grip, nails dragging against the floor with nothing to hold onto. Dave, seeing this, uses the hand he had been using to brace himself to grip hers, lacing their fingers and pinning her hand above her head as he continues.   
  
"Dave _please-_ "   
  
And he knows she needs to come, that she wants to again, because she only gets that begging tone when she really wants it. But fuck, she made him wait long enough, and that just isn't damn well convincing. "Please what," he groans, slamming hard inside of her and staying there. She spasms around him, clenches down hard, and he has to reign it in so he doesn't fucking finish right there.   
  
Vriska, stuck wrestling with her pride over fucking _begging_ Dave to fuck her or just giving in so that she can have another orgasm, it takes her a moment. Eventually, though. Eventually she gives in, just like she always fucking does, because _fuck it_. " _Dave_ ," she whines, squeezing his hand and digging her nails into the back of his. "Baby, please. I need it so bad, I need you to fuck me and let me come. You have no idea how much I'm just _aching_ for you, Strider. Don't hold out on me now, _please_."   
  
He almost wants to make her wait longer just for being excessive but fuck, whatever. He's god damn desperate at this point, too. So he does exactly what she asks; fucks her into the floor and goes as deep as he can, slams into her and reaches between them to rub his thumb over her clit until he's overloading her. The stimulation is too much, makes her moan for him until her breath catches. She whines out his name, high pitched and desperate, grinding down against him when she comes again and Dave fucks her though it.   
  
It's only when she's hitting her peak and fucking clenching around him like a god damn vice grip that he can't hold back. The rhythm he once had in fucking her dissipates and he fucks her without even trying to keep a pace to it, slams in deep as his orgasm hits him while she's coming down from her own. Vriska does her best to roll her hips, to move against him while he finishes, holding her down tight against him. Dave does his best not to collapse on top of her outright; pulls out of her and allows her to relax her overstretched leg as he falls next to her on the too-cold floor of the kitchen.   
  
Dave leans over, kisses her once, twice, and smirks against her mouth. "So much for getting your dessert."   
  
Arching an eyebrow, Vriska mirrors his expression, voice coy, "Who says that I didn't?"


End file.
